when I lived in malibu
the technical writers would hold down
and go to (briefly) three jobs
and the character actors who’d
directed on broadway
waited without the will to wait
their agents waited for them
the iceplant nestled awards
or seemed to and at night
stray seals startled tourists
so cruel and taunting to those
who worked the fast food counters
high school existed for this scorn
and bob dylan’s mosque in the making
inoculated against all occult ambition
even the syrian with his horses
stood mute at twilight with a pitchfork
american gothic gone grandiose